Mommy Store

"I chose the right mommy. Can we talk about the mommy shop and daddy shop and boy shop? I went to the mommy shop and looked at your face and said, ‘you have my mommy's face’ and so I picked you. Then I picked daddy and then you and daddy picked me and Jesus said 'You have parents!! You have parents!!!!' And then he said 'That's right. while doing a cool, gun pointing gesture. - AJ age 4

I stand hopeful, my smile frozen in place on my face to hide my nerves. Children swarm up the isles of the store. The mommy next to me tries to make some idle chatter about how she will be chosen by the best children ever. I nod while thinking the same thing about my children. I wait. I see two beautifully dressed children walk right up to me. They have golden hair with deep blue eyes. One is a girl, the other, an older boy. The girl reaches out and takes my hand. She is gentle. My once forced smile becomes genuine. “Pick me,” I think. “Oh please pick me!” The older boy places a hand on the girl's shoulder and guides her attention to the woman next to me. The little angel squeals as she drops my hand and rushes to embrace the woman to my side. My heart breaks as I think, “She really did get the most perfect children.” and a fake frozen smile appears back on my face. I watch as children come and leave with seemingly perfect mothers. I wait for my turn. I long for any child to choose me. I start to give up hope. Maybe I'm not wanted. Maybe I'm not fit to take care of a sweet, innocent child. I hang my head as I fight back tears of rejection. A tiny hand brushes mine. I glance around to see dark brown eyes twinkling up at me. I kneel down to get a closer look at the child in front of me. He is a small boy with dark, curly hair and and perfectly browned skin. This is not just any child, he is my child.

     He is biting his lip as he takes me in. His hand softly embraces my cheek. “You have my mommy's face. Will you be my mommy?” He asks timidly. I don't try to stop my tears from flowing. I put my forehead against his and sob, “Yes! Yes of course I will be your mommy!” An enthusiastic smile replaces the boy's shy face. “I was afraid that I would not find the right mommy and you would say ‘no’, but when I asked you, you said ‘yes!’” He says brightly. He takes my hand and we rushed to checkout. “Look at my mommy! I picked her out and she picked me!” He told the cashier. The cashier look us both over. “You found each other!” He exclaimed excitedly. He ruffles my boy's puffy hair.

     The cashier bends down and speaks directly to the little boy in a voice of reverence. “Now, this mommy is not cheap. She will go through a lot and she will need you to be strong. She won't always be perfect. Sometimes she is going to get angry, she might even yell. She is going to hurt because she will forget how much she is worth. She is going to cry often because of her sensitive heart and she might want to stop looking for her smile. Sometimes, you will be worst enemies. She may not be perfect all the time but, that's how you both will grow. Only together will you will become perfect. This mommy will cost you hugs, patience, love, understanding, and forgiveness. In return, she will be there to wash your tears away, tell you ‘no’ when you need to hear it, and sing you songs to sleep. She will answer your questions and teach you to embrace your unique qualities. Best of all, she will always love you no matter how difficult things get. She will not give up on you.”

     The cashier pauses to let the boy process the information, then continues, “What do you think? Can you promise to take care of this amazing woman at any cost?” Without hesitation, the sweet curly haired boy pumps his fist in the air and shouts, “No problemo!” I laugh from my belly and scoop the energetic boy up into my arms. I spin in a full circle. “Are you ready for this adventure?” I whisper in his ear as the spinning comes to a stop. He smiles his biggest grin and points his finger at me and says, “That's right!”

    A few years later, I struggle to feel like a good mom. I'm crying over something I have no

control over. My son walks into my room, sees me crying and says, "Just come here to talk." He helps me work through my feeling then he kisses me on the cheek and says, "You are not mean. I just love you." With tears flowing, I ask him, "Why did you pick me to be your mom? His answer is sweet and simple. "I picked you because you are great!" He shows his best grin until I have to smile back. I can't imagine a more perfect son for me. Even through my imperfections, my boy only sees my love for him. "No other mom could raise my son to his full potential. That is a job only I can achive," I realize. My son needs me and I need him. It was not by chance that we ended up being a family.

Together, we are perfection.